Day Eighteen
An Ethdegves
Dedh
De Gwener
ew, an nownjegves a vis Genver. Üdn jorna yeyn ha gwenjek moy. Nag ewa da genam
ha nag ew da gen an kei. Nag ew da gen agan diw gath naneyl.
It’s Friday,
the 19th January. One more cold and windy day. I don’t like it and
the dog doesn’t like it. Our two cats don’t like it either.
Lebmyn ma’n
kei o còsca e’n parledh, ma üdn gath o còsca e’n gegin ha ma’n gath aral o còsca
war an stayrys. Da ew ganjans oll boas cles (klys). Res ew dhen perthy co erghi
oyl moy rag an jynn tobma.
Now the
dog is sleeping in the parlour, one cat is sleeping in the kitchen and the
other cat is sleeping on the stairs. They all like to be cosy. We must remember
to order more oil for the heater.
Na wrüga
vy moas mes de, na wrüga vy moas mes hedhyw ha na wra vy moas mes avorow. Rag
fra na? (Prag na?) Clàv oma. Therama o pasa heb lett. A wra vy moas mes trenja?
Piw or? (Piw a wor?)
I did not
go out yesterday, I did not go out today and I will not go out tomorrow. Why
not? I’m ill. I am coughing incessantly. Will I go out the day after tomorrow?
Who knows?
Diswaytys
o vy dhe fillel a’n disqwedhyans liwya newher. Me a vedh trist dhe fillel a’n
lavarow avorow adro dhe dhisqwedhyanjow dhe weles a Gernow.
I was disappointed
to miss the painting demonstration last night. I shall be sad to miss the talks
tomorrow about visual representations of Cornwall.
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